Entomology Journal
by teenagewitch94
Summary: The team would like to know when Sara became an expert on all things bug. Takes place a couple episodes into season 10. Catherine's POV. One-shot.


**Rating:** PG or K+  
**Pairing:** GSR, of course  
**Disclaimer: **If I owned CSI, would I be publishing this here? I don't think so.  
**Spoilers:** Minor 10x01 Family Affairs**  
Author's note:** This is just a short one-shot in Catherine's POV. The team need an entomologist, and they get as close as they can. Written because there is never enough mention of GSR in the show. Takes place some point in early season 10.

Enjoy!

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"Okay, so I'll admit that I've seen a lot on this job, but this just doesn't add up," Nick told us, voicing the thoughts of the rest of us as we gathered around the display table in the layout room. "There is no way that our vic could have been walking around yesterday night."

"Then how did half a dozen people see him? One person could have made a mistake, and I'm not sure that the one guy, y'know the one with the crazy long hair and overly slurred speech, is exactly a reliable source, but we have _five_ other witnesses. They all put him a couple of blocks off the strip yesterday," Greg insisted.

"We still don't have a positive TOD, then. The liver temp was screwed by the smoke from the vent in that alley, and the maggots don't seem to be telling the truth."

Ray spoke up, "I haven't been a practicing doctor in a while and I'm not an expert on this sort of thing Catherine, but I've seen a few untreated wounds with maggots in them back when I was working at the hospital. Nasty sight, and shocking that people would let the wounds get that infected, but I've seen them all the same. These maggots look much more advanced, and those were less than a day old. I just don't think it's possible that these have been there any less than 48 hours."

I took a deep breath and let it out. "This isn't getting us anywhere. We're going in circles." Nick nodded a bit in agreement with that, and we all turned when we heard footsteps coming into the room.

"No prints on the knife and the only blood belongs to the vic, but we've confirmed COD—he bled out. No surprise there. How's the timeline coming?" Sara asked, coming more fully into the room.

"How does it look like it's coming?" Greg responded sarcastically, gesturing to the grainy pictures that can't really confirm the witness' stories, the conflicting witness statements that Brass sent over, the crime scene photos and close ups of the stab wounds—some complete with maggots, the entomology text open on the table, and the varying looks of exasperation and frustration on everyone's faces.

"Ah, so not well, then?"

Hodges came into the room, "No trace samples anywhere on the knife and the fibres found next to the body were white surgical gauze."

"Great, that tells us almost nothing. And the time line doesn't work. We've got maggots putting TOD between 48 and 72 hours ago, and witnesses that saw him walking around less than 24 hours ago. One says he looked fine, one says he was gripping his left arm like he was in pain, one says he was limping on his left leg, one says he had a white bandage on his left bicep. You get the picture. And we're not even sure that they all saw the right guy."

Sara had a thoughtful look on her face as she picked up the photos to get a closer look. "What type of fly are they? The maggots, I mean."

Greg picked up the notes he'd received from the coroner, "They're maggots from—"

"The Blue Bottle Fly," she finished for him as something seemed to click in her brain, and she grabbed the text book to flip through to the back index.

Greg looked shocked, "Umm, yeah? How did you..." he trailed off, his words coming out like a question.

She squinted a bit, never taking her eyes off the list of terms, "Maybe _everyone_ could be right," she mused, seeming distracted. Finishing her search and frowning, she looked up, "The book's not recent enough."

"What're you thinking, Sara?" Nick asked her.

"Could be nothing. I'll be right back," and she turned on her heel and strode out of the room.

"Well, that was a bit scary," Greg said, laughing as we watched her walk down the hall. Hodges nodded, looking at Sara speculatively.

"What do you mean?" Ray asked.

"You wouldn't see it, but did anyone else notice how completely _Grissom_ she just acted? I mean, she finished Greg's sentence with no way of knowing what he was going to say, she got an idea, gave us a cryptic phrase, and left with an 'I'll be right back'. That's just plain weird."

Nick was smiling at this point, "Well Hodges, they _are_ married. I guess he's rubbing off on her."

Greg made a face as if that was something he really didn't need to hear.

Rolling his eyes, Nick added, "Get your mind out of the gutter, Greggo. I meant personality wise."

Choosing to ignore that comment and write it off as 'boys will be boys', I remembered the conversation we'd had about leadership, "We were talking the other day and she was trying to explain something using a baseball metaphor. I mean, when did Sara _ever_ watch baseball?"

Greg looked about to answer when Sara burst back into the room, grinning. "I've got it."

"What?"

"Your timeline."

I was still completely confused, and my face showed it.

"The maggots from the wounds in the picture _were_ there for 72 hours, but they weren't there post-mortem. They're medical maggots. Some of them only feed on dying or decaying tissues in wounds and won't bother the healthy areas of skin or muscle, so they can be used as a treatment. It's an _unconventional_, but not unheard of, way to clean out necrotic cells in deep wounds to help them heal. They're sterile larvae of the _Blue Bottle Fly_ and they're applied by doctors. It's basically a bandage or baggie with live maggots placed on the infected area and left on for 48 to 72 hours. They sometimes work when antibiotics fail and can be used to treat diabetic foot ulcers, chronic bed sores and post surgical wounds. You need to see if there's a clinic near the scene that provides that kind of treatment. He could've skipped out early and been attacked then."

Everyone was looking impressed at this point, even Greg and Nick who were also trying desperately to hold back laughter at the subject matter that Sara seemed to be an expert on.

"It would explain the gauze near the vic and the inconsistent maggots only found in some of the lacerations. That could also be why he was grasping his left arm." Sara finished, looking extremely pleased with herself.

Ray looked especially interested, "I've heard about that, but it's not all that common. I'll check with Wendy and see if we've IDed the vic yet. Then we can get our hands on any medical records he has and see if he's received any recent treatment."

"Go for it, Ray," I told him. He smiled a bit, nodded, and walked out.

"I'll go with him," Hodges offered, and left after him. Probably to see Wendy, I mused. Speaking of in-lab relationships...The guys were openly laughing now, and Sara was looking at them like they had two heads.

"Sara, when did you become an expert on _Medical Maggots_?" Greg managed.

"It was in a magazine I was reading."

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that you aren't subscribing to _People_," I added.

She snorted, "Entomology journal, if you must know."

"You actually spend your days reading other people's forensic journals? Damn girl, you've had way too much time on your hands," Nick teased.

"How do you know they're not _my_ journals?"

"Honey, we call ourselves CSIs for a reason."

She rolled her eyes, "They were lying around my house, so I read them. I take it you're not sorry—I just broke your case."

"Sorry?! Are you kidding? You just provided us with our entertainment for the day," Greg told her.

Laughing a bit again, Nick put his arm around her shoulders, "Yeah, come on Grissom 2.0, let's go get some coffee."

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Love it? Hate it? Let me know. REVIEW!

~tw94


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